


Not my sister

by krazyk2314



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mark of Cain, Reader is their sister, Sam and Dean's Sister, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 19:30:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10170194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazyk2314/pseuds/krazyk2314
Summary: Dean and his sister are captured by the Steins. Dean wakes up to see his sister hurt, and the mark takes over.





	

As soon as Dean came home with the mark halfway hidden upon his arm, you knew things would change and not for the better. It was only a matter of time before it would take over, with someone getting hurt, or killed. 

At first things seemed okay. Sam and Dean continued to hunt, looking for Abaddon while you stayed back, like always, manning the bunker and staying on top of research. Due to your somewhat normal life growing up, your half brothers had decided to keep you as far away from hunting as possible. While teaching you how to handle a gun and knife, they never expected you to actually use one. 

When the deed had been done, and Abaddon had been taken care of, you thought things would be better. That was as far from the truth as possible. Dean's spells grew worse, fighting the bloodlust had become much harder. Many times you were afraid to even run into him in the bunker's hallway, not sure what direction his mood would have taken. He had never hurt you, but the look in his eyes, was enough to have you scurrying to you room. 

It was there you were still, long after they had gone to help Charlie, a woman you considered a friend. Wishing she was okay, you had been forced to stay behind, due to the dangerous men following her. Not wanting to argue this time, you stayed back, looking through the various books the men of letters had procured, trying to find anything that would heal Dean. So far everything had been a dead end, and you were growing hopeless that you would ever find anything.

Sitting at one of the tables, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate, you heard your phone buzzing beside your elbow. Glancing at it, you picked it up when you realized it was Sam calling. "Hey there Moose, what's up?"

"Do you really have to call me that stupid nickname?" He complained, even though you thought he secretly didn't mind. "Forget it. Y/N, I want you to make sure the bunker is secure and locked down. Then head into your room and lock the door. Don't open it, no matter what." He warned, raising your anxiety. Standing up, you pressed the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you raced up the stairs, ready to check the main door.

"Sam, what's wrong? Is it about those guys following Charlie?" You asked, almost tripping on the stairs in your haste. 

"Yes, their an ancient family, full of evilness. We don't think they know about the bunker, but we want to be safe." He said, before dean's muffled voice could be heard. Reaching the top of the stairs, you reached to attach the security lock when the door was shoved open, knocking you off of your feet, your phone flying from your grasp, shattering on the ground below. 

A man with pale blonde hair stood there, rubbing his hands together as he stared at you sprawled on the floor. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise. When I found out those two annoying men had a hidden bunker, I just had to come see it for myself. Not to mention the sister that usually stays within it's walls."

"Who are you? What do you want?" You asked, slowly scooting back away from, towards the stairs. Maybe if he was distracted, you could get down those stairs and to your hidden firearm before he caught up with you.

"The names Styne, Eldon Styne." He told you formally, taking a step closer to you. He had crystal blue eyes, but it was the look in them that had your blood running cold, your hands shaking as you came closer to the stairs. His eyes were full of nothing but evilness, a corruption that meant nothing but bad things for you. "I think you might have heard of my family, the stynes. Better known in history as Frankenstein."

"Listen, there's nothing for you here, and my brother's will be back at any moment." You babbled, slowly coming to your feet. He watched you, never making a move, just eyeing you. 

"Oh, but there is something I want. If you have the same blood running through those veins as your brothers, my family will be very happy to have you." He stated, before rushing forward so fast you didn't even have time to blink. Wrapping his hand in your hair, he pulled you tight to him, before weirdly sniffing your neck. "Oh yes, you will do quite nicely." He whispered, and without even thinking, you brought your knee up with all of your might, straight into his privates. Yanking your head back, you saw stars when his hand pulled hair, but finally you were free, only to feel yourself falling backwards. Reaching out for anything, you tried to stop your momentum as you began falling down the stairs. Each step jarred your body, your head smashing against the iron bars as you tried to stop yourself.

Halfway down the stairs you were finally able to stop yourself. Laying there, gasping for air, you could do nothing but watch as he strode down, a murderous glare on his face as he leaned down over you. "Stupid girl, you could have killed yourself. Or hurt those organs that will be so precious to my family."

"Go to hell." You whispered, your lip broken and bleeding, the metallic taste filling your mouth.

"No thank you." He answered politely before slamming your head against the railing, knocking you unconscious. 

______________________________________________________

Feeling as if every bone in your body was broken or bruised, you struggled to wake up, wanting to go back into that sweet nothingness that kept the pain at bay. Fighting against the pain was the memories, reminding you that you were probably someone's prisoner, the people you had been warned about. 

A bright white light shown over your head, bright enough to reach through your eyelids, blinding you as soon as you forced them open. A florescent medical light was placed directly over your head, blending with the bright lights above to create an overwhelming white aura over you. 

Testing your tender body, you couldn't move your arms or your legs, and for a second you feared you were paralyzed. Then you noticed the other operating tables across from you, with their thick leather cuffs for hands and feet. Whatever had you captured, wanted you to stay, and it was a scary thought. 

Coming around the table was an older man, with pale features, wearing a lab coat like a doctor would. "Good, our patient is finally awake." He said, clapping his hands together. "Tell me, how do you feel?"

Trying to answer, you realized your jaw was held in place by a strong leather strap, preventing you from moving your mouth to talk. "Oh, I'm so sorry." He told you, unstrapping your chin. "I do realize it's quite hard to talk with that."

"What the hell do you want?" You asked him. "You better let me go, or my brother's will kill you all. Dean is not to be reckoned with."

"I do expect them to show up. I've heard about these brothers of yours, especially Dean. I can't wait to test them." He explained, turning to let the lady behind him slide gloves over his hands. "But first, I'd like to test you. See if that blood runs thick through you as well."

After nodding to another person, the strap around your jaw was tightened, as you fought hard to get free. Taking a scalpel from the table, he pressed it against the inside of your arm, pulling it down, creating a thin line of blood. Moaning, you tried to move away, but you were held still, unable to do anything but lay there and take it. Taking a sample of your blood, he turned back to you. "Let's have a little fun, shall we?"

What he described as fun was nothing but torture for you. Taking the scalpel and other various instruments, he did what he called tests, cutting away at your skin. "Why, you're nothing but a little girl. I could end you with one swipe of this." He exclaimed, as you lay there, your body covered in cuts and blood. 

Moving back over you, he pressed the scalpel to your chest just as a commotion in the hall stopped him. Nodding to his henchmen, he put the scalpel down, his attention on what was going on in the hallway. "Sir, there's been a breach." One man told him, and the older man clapped his hands together.

"Marvelous. They're here." He exclaimed happily. Leaning back down over you, he ran his hand along one of the deeper cuts, his gloves coated in your blood. "It seems like I get my wish after all." He said, pressing hard against the cut until you passed out from the pain.

__________________________________________

Startled by the commotion in the room, you tried sitting straight up, only to be brought short by the bindings around your legs and arms. With your jaw still secure in the leather strap, your vision only extended part way, but who was laying on the table next to you was wearing the familiar red shirt. "Dean?" You whispered, distraught that they had caught him. 

He didn't answer, but the familiar chilling voice of the older man did. "You're finally awake. Yes, you're brother was dim enough to try to take us all on at once, and now he's laying next to you. Maybe we'll keep him for testing, use you as parts."

"Dean!" You cried louder, wanting to wake him. It worked, and he tried to shoot straight up, being stopped just like you had been. 

"Y/N?" Are you okay?" He asked, his attention on making sure you were okay. 

"I wouldn't say okay." The head Styne answered for you. "I'd say she has severe blood loss, and oh, let's say a broken arm." He told Dean, just before bringing down a heavy hammer, smashing your arm and you could feel the bone shatter underneath. Screaming, you blinked away the tears at the pain, wanting to cradle your arm, but unable to move.

"You Son of a Bitch. That wasn't smart!" Dean growled, pulling their attention away from you and back towards him. 

"You're tied to a table. What are you going to do about it?" The older man teased, taking the hammer and smashing it down on that arm again, making you almost black out, an inhuman sound leaving your lips at the pain. Seeing stars, you almost missed the sound of the leather straps being ripped open as Dean literally ripped himself from the table, stabbing two of the men in quick secession. 

Working fast, the older Styne undid your bindings, pulling you tight to his chest, the scalpel pressed against your neck. "I wouldn't. Unless you want her to die."

From this vantage point, you could see Dean, and it wasn't your brother. Not truly. His eyes were dull and full of rage, the bloodlust of the Mark having taken over. "You all need to pay." Dean growled, throwing a knife at the lady trying to leave, killing her instantly. 

Shoving you to the side, you fell, hitting your head on the edge of the able as he tried to run from Dean. From the corner of your eye, you saw Dean take the scalpel out of his hands, slicing it across the man's throat, his blood spraying in a wide arc in front of him. 

As soon as the man's lifeless body fell to the ground, Dean stood there, his eyes unfocused, his breathing shallow. "Dean?" You said softly, getting no response. Carefully holding your shattered arm to your chest, you stood up, gingerly making your way to your brother. Wondering if his blood lust was great enough that he would end up killing you too. "Dean, it's over. They're dead." You assured him, but his hand still gripped the blade tightly.

With a shaky hand, you reached up, gently touching his shoulder, jumping a mile high when he tensed underneath your touch, turning to face you, the blade still out in front of him, narrowly missing you. "Y/N?" He asked, and you nodded.

"Dean, you saved me. They're all dead now." You assured him once again, and with a sigh he dropped the scalpel, the metal's clatter echoing in the silent room. Suddenly he was pulling you into his arms, and you moaned in pain as all your cuts along with your shattered arm were jostled and squeezed. "Y/N, I'm so sorry." He whispered, his eyes clear enough to take in your hurt form.

"Dean, you saved me. That's all that matters." You insisted. Shaking his head, he gingerly picked you up, stepping over the dead bodies as he carried you outside. Setting you into the passenger seat of the Impala, he made his way to the other side, sitting there instead of starting it.

"I tried fighting it. The bloodlust. I knew that's what they wanted, and I wasn't going to give it to them. But then I saw you, and I heard your scream. I couldn't stop myself until they paid for hurting a single hair on my sister."

"Can we please go home?" You pleaded, and with a shake of his head the Impala was started and he was pulling away from the murder scene. Silently watching out the window, you felt guilty for being relieved. While Dean was still a walking, ticking time bomb of murderous rage, he had been there when you had needed him, knowing enough not to kill you. And while it might not be the same next time, it still was enough for you right now. 

"Home. And then we find Cas to heal you." He ordered, before giving you a smile that reminded you so much of the brother he was before the Mark. Which made you even more determined to find the cure, no matter the cost.


End file.
